An allegory of the secret held within a poem: the crystals of a geode.

Translated from the French



Geode

Let the dance make the hull be subject to decay,
A crucible for words, I shall free the live one.
Who can deny the wind when the oak crashes down?
In flawless crystal are breath and strength caged away.

Spirit of the whirlwind that composes my chest,
I scatter all my hours like grains I would winnow,
Concealing in myself gem and skilful tempo
In which a rising star has both start and recess.

As a spinning spiral engulfing years and miles,
The fiend abducting me I shall, some day, devour-
Theseus oblivious of the hiding monster-.

(In everlasting fields thrive the short-lasting strains)
And I shall find again, once the truce is proclaimed,
My inviolate core that's deserted by time.



Géode

Que la ronde à  la chute asservisse l'écorce,
Je suis creuset du mot d'où sort le seul vivant
Le cèdre qui s'abat est la preuve du vent
Un cristal invaincu muselle souffle et force.

Ame du tourbillon qui compose mon torse,
Mes heures dispersant comme la graine au van
Je recèle la pierre et le rythme savant
Qui d'un astre levant sont la mine et l'amorce.

Spirale engloutissant les bornes et les ans
Je serai le mangeur du monstre qui m'enlève-
Thésée insoucieux du secret qui l'attend-

(Sur champ d'éternité pousse la chanson brève)
Et je retrouverai quand sonnera la trêve
Mon centre inviolé que déserte le temps.




Poetry by Michel Galiana
Read 1087 times
Written on 2008-07-24 at 23:17

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